Life and death the only real question.

I am the undying

Forever flying

Lost in a dream of death.


The cigarette dances upon my lips

At four of the morning time

A time for mourning mime.


There is no sleep for the lost

I feel it deeply to my cost

Just to feel death so close.


The rope in my closet calls to me

All could be over all could be free

But it just won’t be.


I dream awake of not dreaming

Mindless mind numb with death

I try to read Camus my love.


I think of Hunter S Thompson

His ideas cascade and I understand

He knew the truth, not so bland.


The fear of loss grows further away

I feel my need to leave and decay

Why won’t it happen?


Not to await the last judgement

It awaits us everyday in every way

Peace is for no one all have to pay.


What saves me from crossing the styx

Every night my mind tortures “David”.

Where are you my beautiful boy?


I long to be free of the pain

Its not by light disdain I refrain

Its battlements grow weaker.


I cling to the myth of Sysiphus

Each day weaker then the next

The absurdity of life grows great.

As I face that great damned gate.

◄ Bach

Homage to Shane ►


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Fri 15th Feb 2019 21:12

Thanks for sharing this Phil. It has that essential quality that examines the deep questions on a personal level, and rides on a knife edge, obviously desperately painful but with a creative urge expressed, and thus enabling us to reflect as near as we can on a glimpse of the unbearable.


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